“It’s probably been washed off by now. I don’t think it’s such a good idea to wear blood to court.” I raise my hand like I’m pledging. “I’m not guilty, Your Honor, don’t mind this blood or anything.”

Scout laughs, a little burst that comes out his nose. He throws me a fastball.

“And besides, the blood will get my ball messy,” I call to him.

“And slippery too,” Scout shouts back.

Convict baseballs are collector’s items on Alcatraz. The convicts play baseball in the rec yard, but the way they play, if they hit the ball over the wall, it’s an automatic out, so they’re pretty rare.

“Piper got you a convict baseball, remember? What did you do with it?”

“Put it to good use. Can’t you get me one?” Scout gives me his aw-shucks look. “I mean if a girl could do it…”“

I snort. “I actually got you the one Piper gave you. And no, I can’t get you another. Maybe we could meet a con though.”

“That’ll do,” Scout agrees.

“It’s not trash pickup or laundry day, so we can’t run into a con that way,” I say.

“Al Capone ever pick up your trash?”

“Nope, never met the guy.” I know Scout would be impressed if I told him about the notes from Al, but then he’d tell everyone at school. This I don’t need. “There’s a thief and a con man who work in Piper’s house. Let’s go say hello,” I say as if I do this every day.

Scout whistles long and low. “A con man, a thief, and a looker… what are we waiting for?”

“Piper’s not a looker,” I snap.

Scout grins out of one side of his mouth. “Don’t get all worked up now, Moose. I just said she was a looker. I didn’t say I was looking, now did I?”

“If you weren’t looking, how’d you know she was a looker?”

“Ahh, Moose.” Scout sighs. “You’re pretty far gone,” he declares as we walk up the switchback into the shadow of the cell house, a cement building big as a football field with three floors of prisoners inside. Scout, normally the fastest walker in the world, begins to slow his pace. “That’s where they keep ’em?” he whispers, pointing to the looming fortress.